


Hugglesquish

by AvaKelly



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Clint Needs a Hug, Fluff, M/M, Meddling Friends, Meddling Kids, Oblivious, Pining, Steve's a little shit, Texting, a little angst in there tho, cos i can't help myself, did i mention the fluff?, hugs and texts, james need a hug, kid fic (sorta), natasha and sam are his accomplices, single parent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-29
Updated: 2016-01-29
Packaged: 2018-05-17 02:24:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5850247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvaKelly/pseuds/AvaKelly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James receives texts form an unknown number, hugglesquish, and snuggle, and good morning, and huggle. It doesn't take long for him to start conversing with this stranger. Surprises, though, await him down the road.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hugglesquish

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GingerEnvy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GingerEnvy/gifts).



> So I needed a break from the pain infused fic that Nameless is... and it kinda got out of hand.  
> For the [hugglesquishing](http://intermittently-ava.tumblr.com/post/132043281947/theassassinhawk-intermittently-ava)!  
> Thank you for reading.

' _Hugglesquish_ '

James checks again. Unknown number. It's the third time this happens this week, this weird text popping up on his phone. He's tempted to demand the other person cuts it the fuck off, but he doesn't really want to _talk_ to anyone. Even if it's just some asshole with a wrong number.

There's the daily knock on his bedroom door before Steve's voice drifts over.

"I made breakfast," Steve says.

James turns away from the door, even though Steve can't see him.

"Come on, it's been eight days, you can't fucking hide in your room for ever!"

Oh shit. Steve sounds pretty pissed, and the last time he got mad at James' isolationist tactics, he broke his bedroom door. They had to replace the whole thing. So James opens it, grunts at Steve as he squeezes past him toward the kitchen.

Breakfast's actually welcome. James' stomach gives an approving rumble as he stuffs his mouth full of eggs. Steve joins him and they eat in silence, but it doesn't last. Of course it doesn't. This is _Steve_.

"You can't shut yourself away forever," Steve starts and James tries to ignore him. "Just because that guy was an ass--"

"I don't wanna talk about it," James interrupts. He really doesn't. Brock acted like a fuckwad when he found out, and that after two months of chatting online. He really doesn't need advice right now. What he needs is to wallow in self pity and to stop putting his faith in strangers.

"I know," Steve sighs, putting his fork down. Oh no. _The Speech_. "I just wanna say something," Steve continues, "please."

With a rub to his forehead, James nods. Steve won't let it go, and it's best to get it over with.

"Would you stop telling people you're a single father! For fuck's sake, dad, I'm twenty, tell them I'm your brother or something!"

Well this is new. Entirely unexpected. James eyes Steve warily. He's had him when he was stupid and sixteen. One day he was happily chasing flings, and the next he had a tiny life depending on him. If it hadn't been for his mom to help him through, he wouldn't have made it so far, with a boy taller than him, studying the art he loves on scholarship, and with an amazing young man like Sam for a boyfriend.

It's why James has started looking for something. Now, he's not so sure, after four failed attempts in the past half year.

"Language, Steven," he mutters to hide his surprise.

Because of course Steve's right. Not about lying, but about not being needed anymore, not like Steve used to need him. James leans into the table, resting his forehead in his palm.

Steve straightens with too much smugness on his face. The little sneaky...

"You're grounded," James says.

"Sure," Steve returns with a smile. "Eat your food."

James eats, wondering if he can dye Steve's hair green while he sleeps.

~

He's been staring at the blank page in front of him for an hour now. He has a fifty page translation to finish by next Monday, and he hasn't even started. Being fluent in two languages had helped tremendously when he needed a job that he could do while staying home with a baby, while not having any experience, or a college degree. He's learned two more since then, but he's been a little too sick of it lately, often finding himself looking for a change. Maybe he could go back to school, he's always wanted to do engineering.

His phone pings and James opens the incoming text.

' _Pokey poke_ ,' it says.

Same number. With a sigh, he drops the phone on the table, only to have it ping again.

' _This is your daily smishyhug! Have a good one_ '

James smiles despite himself, but turns it into a frown when he catches himself.

~

' _Lovely sunny morning today. Snuggles!_ '

Really, James should let this person know they have the wrong number.

~

Steve catches him smile at the phone and James refuses to look at another text from that number again. He doesn't last two days. The messages always come early in the morning, and every time they seem to brighten James' mood so fast, it's almost dizzying. He doesn't have the heart to say anything anymore, and he's feeling guilty for not feeling guilty about that.

It's been over a month and James is addicted. He finds himself wanting to have the real thing, wondering who this person is. Are they as gentle as their texts seem to say? Would their hugs feel as good? James bets they would.

He hasn't touched anyone intimately in twenty years, and the hugs he gets from mom and Becca and Steve are fine, but he can't help wanting something else, a partner. He won't even be picky about something as ludicrous as gender. Just... it's been lonely.

He grabs his phone, gives Becks a call. She's in her third trimester and likes to hear reassurances that she won't drop her baby on its head when the time comes.

~

"Are you sure this is gonna work?" Clint asks Steve for the millionth time. It just doesn't seem like it's gonna work.

" _Yes_ ," Steve says and Nat rolls her eyes. "Give him time."

Clint fiddles with his phone. He's just sent his favorite, ' _hugglesquish_ ,' again. And just like all the other times, he's received no answer. He drums his fingers on the table, watching the sidewalk bathed in morning light through the coffee shop windows while waiting for Sam.

He's known Steve since his little sis has started college. Nat, Sam, and Steve had met at orientation and been joined at the hip ever since.

The first time he'd seen Steve's dad, though... Clint had lost all ability of speech. Nat had teased him for days. Then she'd told Steve about it, and Clint had never been more embarrassed in his life. Finding a guy hot is one thing, but a friend's _father_? Aw, heart.

It has taken Steve half a year to convince Clint to start with the texts, and Clint's still not so sure. Not sure he won't be made fun of, or worse. But nah, James Barnes has made _Steve_ , and Steve's the pinnacle of anti-bullying. So it won't be that. Instead, he's pretty sure he's going to be told he's too boring, or clingy, or... really, why is Clint even bothering. He's twenty eight and never even kissed anyone. And now he's drooling after an unattainable guy.

His phone vibrates on the table, and Clint opens the text absent-minded.

' _Huggles to you, too._ '

Oh. Oh! Fuck, Clint's cheeks are burning.

When he looks up, both Steve and Nat are smirking at him in that way that says he's never going to hear the end of it, and he flips them off.

He should stop hanging out with his sister's friends. He should make his own friends. Hah, who's he kidding. Nobody ever sticks around. It's like he's cursed or something. He's lucky his foster parents didn't throw him out when Nat was born. They even adopted him, and to this day Clint doesn't understand why, but here he is, with loving parents, a kick-ass little sis, and her two friends. Clint shouldn't tempt fate by wanting more. Really.

~

' _Morning cuddles_ '

James smiles into his pillow after reading the text. He hugs the phone to his chest for a second, and he'd never admit to that if caught, and opens an eye to type a reply.

' _Give me morning coffee, too, and I'll be yours forever._ '

' _You say that now_ ' comes back and James snorts at the phone.

He doesn't know who this other person is, just made sure they're not a kid. Seeing how they talk about their students, it's highly unlikely. Archery instructor sounds impressive and so much fun. If only they knew about James' boring self. But that's not something he wants to dwell on right now.

' _Is your coffee that bad?_ ' James returns.

' _I can't even boil water_ '

Their conversations have been growing longer and longer in the past three weeks. James likes them, whoever they are, he likes them a lot. They're funny, snarky in a way that's sometimes incredibly subtle, and other times blunter than a bulldozer. He hasn't laughed this much in years.

' _Good thing my son can cook or we'd be eating canned soup every day._ '

Oh, fuck. James, what did you do? He's not going to hear back from them again. He squeezes his eyes shut, groans into the pillow. His phone is silent, just as expected. He pushes it under the pillow, shuffles out of bed and into the shower. He can't believe this, it was going so well...

He busies himself in the kitchen. Despite his jokes, he _can_ cook, but it just never comes out tasty. Or edible for that matter. Using the coffee maker? Now that he can do. Filling a bowl with cereal? Yup. Keeping a single fucking human connection?

James presses his palms over his eyes. He's too old to bawl over a stranger. Fuck.

He's two hours into the latest translation when he realizes he doesn't have his phone around. He's been a little too paranoid about it, always ready to answer calls from Steve, even now that he's all grown and able to take care of himself.

There are eight text messages when he fishes it from under the pillow.

' _I'd eat your canned soup every day_ '

' _Haha joking_ '

' _Omg sorry_ '

' _Please don't be mad_ '

' _It's creepy I know_ '

' _Didn't mean it like that_ '

' _I get it if you don't wanna talk to me anymore_ '

' _I'm so sorry_ '

James sits heavily on the edge of the bed. What... oh he's such an idiot.

' _I'm not mad_ ,' he writes. ' _I didn't hear the phone. I should be the one apologizing. I don't want to stop talking to you, so please don't stop either. You have no idea how better my days are since I've met you. Fuck. I screwed up. Let's try again. How about some soup? We can do tomato or mushroom._ '

It's a little too open, a little too revealing, but James presses _send_. It's time he admits it to himself, he's absolutely smitten.

And he doesn't even know their name.

~

Clint's fucked it up, as usual. Things were going well, and Clint had to _try and flirt_. Hah, as if! He's been told too many times that he's creepy, he should know better. Why the hell... with a shaky inhale, he drops his phone in his locker and moves inside the range for the first class of the day.

He can't really focus on anything, and his boss, Maria, is not pleased. He should beg the day off, go home and hide in bed.

It's lunchtime when he checks his phone again, and there's a text. He dreads seeing its contents, but in the end he must know how badly he fucked up this time.

What?

' _Who eats mushroom soup?_ ' he sends, and this is be the last thing he should be texting right now. But his brain seems to have stuck itself on it, and his fingers have acted without his input.

' _I do_ ,' comes back immediately, and ' _Thank you_ ' before Clint has time to reply.

' _What for?_ ' Clint asks. He should be the one saying thanks.

There is a longer break, but Clint waits patiently this time. James is not a fast typer usually.

' _I have a son who I raised on my own since I was 16. I'm not married. Don't have a college degree either._ '

Oh. Clint isn't supposed to know all this. He chews on his lip, debating whether to tell James who he is, but in the end he can't. He's not that brave. He can give the same back, though.

' _Well I'm a 28yo virgin who's never been kissed_ '

Clint holds his breath, but the phone pings quickly.

' _Like in that movie._ '

' _What_ '

' _Never been kissed, it's a movie._ '

Oh. Clint doesn't really know what to say to that, so he ends up staring at the phone, wondering what it would be like to kiss James.

' _I haven't been with anyone in twenty years, think we're square on that one._ '

Today is just full of surprises. Clint can't really believe it, not when James looks like he does, wide shoulders, permanent stubble, long hair, and those eyes that seem to pierce through everything. But Steve's said his dad's never dated, not until a few recent attempts, so Clint has no reason to doubt him.

' _No, you owe me an embarrassing story to make up for those 8 extra years_ '

' _Hah. Ok, here goes._ '

And Clint almost forgets he has class next, that's how engrossed he is in reading James' recount of that one time when his son got it into his six year old head that his teacher will be his new mommy. James had been mortified and Clint laughs heartily. Aw, Steve. He can't wait to rub it in his face. Or... nah. He's going to keep it to himself. He smiles so much for the rest of the day, that Maria avoids him warily.

~

"Clint and Steve's dad, sitting in a tree--"

Clint throws a pillow at Nat's head, hits target dead on. The pillow flies back at him, more like it's smacked against his face, and Clint glares at her.

"So when are you gonna meet him?" she asks sweetly, already knowing Clint doesn't have the balls.

"Look who's talking," Clint returns. "When are you gonna ask Peggy out?"

Nat crosses her arms with a pout.

"You've been pining after her since last year."

"Well, you've been pining for two years," comes back and Clint sighs. But then her face lights up. That's never a good sign. "How about this? I'll ask _her_ out when you ask _him_ out."

Clint shakes his head. Nope, not a chance. "At this rate, you'll die a virgin, like me."

She squints her eyes at him. "What if I convince mom and dad to invite Steve and his dad over for dinner again? Sam and his parents, too. Hm?"

She wouldn't. Fuck. She totally would. But they've been living in a rented two bedroom apartment in the city, and he could always avoid going home... ah, who's he kidding. He can never not go back to see them, at least once every couple of weeks. He loves Tony and Pepper to pieces. And since dad had that heart scare a few years back, Clint hasn't been able to stay away.

"I don't think I can ask him out," Clint says, looking away.

"Why not?" Nat scoots closer on the sofa. "You've been texting a lot."

"Look at me and look at him," he sighs. And that earns him a smack over the back of his head. "Ow!"

"Don't be stupid," she rolls her eyes, "he clearly likes you. Steve's said so."

"Steve also calls me mom, which is not funny, by the way."

Clint can't help hoping, and he knows it will only lead to heartbreak. But he believes Steve when he says James is smiling a lot, when he says his dad seems happier.

Next to him, Nat laughs. Clint joins her. It's a little funny after all, just a tiny bit.

~

"So?"

James looks up to see Steve watching him questioningly over the kitchen table as they wait for the pizza to arrive.

"So what?" he says as he puts his phone away.

"Did you ask them out yet?"

"How is that any of your business?"

"I just wanna know who my new mommy will be," Steve smirks.

James rolls his eyes, but can't stop the huff of laughter. "Cut that out," he says. "I don't even know if they're a woman."

Steve shrugs. "But you like them. So what's the problem?"

"How are we talking about this?" James sighs. "I'm your father, you're my child."

"I just want you to be happy," Steve returns, a little too seriously.

James' shoulders slump.

"So?" Steve nudges again, and they're back to square one. "They know about me, you're out of excuses."

"Excuses, huh," James raises an eyebrow. "Who made you a smart ass?"

"You did," Steve grins.

~

' _Do you want to get dinn_ ' James deletes for the fourth time. ' _How about we get a cup of coffee?_ ' Ok, this sounds better. He's tempted to delete again, but he's out of ideas, and if he's going to get rejected, it will happen no matter what he writes. So he hits _send_.

It's about five minutes before a ' _yeah_ ' comes back. They make plans for tomorrow afternoon, at a coffee shop nearby, and James squirms all night with nerves.

~

Clint can't believe he's doing this. When he'd gotten that invite yesterday, he'd been with Nat and Steve and Sam, and they'd convinced him to accept. What the hell is he doing.

He wipes his palms on his jeans as he walks toward the coffee house, trying to calm the jitters. He hasn't even noticed James approaching from the other direction, and they both stop right in front of the door.

"Oh, hi," James says, "Clint right? You're Natasha's brother."

And Clint's tongue refuses to move, so he ends up nodding meekly, heart trying to crawl up his throat and run away screaming. He's tempted to run as well, but his legs won't budge either.

"Going in?" James asks as he holds the door open.

Fuck. Clint hurries inside, walks to the register. He doesn't even understand what he's ordering, because James is right there, reading the big menu written in chalk over the counter. When his cup is ready, Clint snatches it and hurries into the farthest corner available. Shortly after, James sits two tables over, and he's wearing a purple scarf, just like they've agreed on. Clint pulls the collar of his jacket higher, to hide his own.

He can't do this. He's a coward and he can't do this. James is going to hate him. What was he thinking?

Clint's phone pings, startling him, and he hurries to read the incoming text.

' _I'm here. Are you running late?_ '

How long has it been? Ah, almost twenty minutes. Clint takes a deep breath. He can do this, he's a grown man. Why is it so hard to go over there and say hi?

He looks up then and all air rushes out of his lungs. James is staring right at him. He's staring, and frowning, and now walking toward Clint.

No. He can't do it. Can't take the rejection. So he bolts, runs as fast as his legs allow him, sound rushing in his ears, breath hitching around the lump in his throat. He can't do it.

~

James is expecting a "haha, fooled you" as he approaches Clint, and he swears that if this is one of Steve's pranks, he's going to ground his ass until he's ninety. But Steve's not that cruel, and the way Clint looks at him, utterly terrified... Clint runs out before James can say a word.

He's left there standing, while his mind puts pieces together.

The first time he'd met Clint had been almost two years back, during the winter break of Steve's first year in college. They've been over at the Starks for dinner. Clint hasn't said a word all night that time. He's only seen Clint in passing ever since, although he's heard Steve mentioning him here and there. Archery! Of course, how did he miss it? Steve's told him about that.

He must have been standing for too long, because some of the other customers are eying him strangely, so James returns to his table.

He calls Steve.

"Did you have anything to do with this?" James asks as soon as the call connects.

"You can thank me later," comes back, tone too amused.

"Steven!" James hisses.

A crash follows on the other side. "What happened?" Steve's voice is back, agitated this time. In the background, James can hear Sam and Natasha saying something.

"Did you know it was Natasha's brother texting me?" he asks.

"Uh... yeah?"

James pinches the bridge of his nose. "Was this a joke to you all?"

"No!" comes back immediately. "Why wou--"

A loud bang covers Steve's words. Natasha's voice yells "Clint" before another bang resounds through the speakers.

"What happened?" Steve asks again, and that's his worried voice. "You were meeting for coffee."

"Yeah," James slumps into the table. "He just ran out on me."

Silence follows, a little muffled. Steve's probably talking to the other two in the room with him, and James waits, albeit a little too impatiently. "Look, dad, Clint really likes you. He's super bad at dealing with people, or confrontations, but I guess you know that already."

James huffs. Yeah, he knows. He knows a lot about Clint, he realizes. He's been telling himself it didn't matter, gender, race, education, physical traits. It's no different now. Clint hasn't lied during their talks. And James has never asked, not even about his name.

His chest tightens as he recalls the look Clint's given him when James had figured it out. He looked so terrified... James' heart gives an unhappy pang. Oh, he's really gone for Clint, isn't he?

"Where is he now?"

"In his room, we're at Nat's."

And James has her address saved on his phone for emergencies.

"I'll be right there."

~

Natasha is chewing on her lip when she opens the door. Her worried face is matched by Steve's and Sam's as they all stand there awkwardly.

"It wasn't a joke," Steve says quietly. "He's a great guy, once you get past the whole not good with talking to people," he continues, a little too fast and muttered.

But Clint's been amazing at talking to _James_ , albeit not out loud.

"Ok," James says.

"We'll give you some space," Sam offers, grabbing his jacket. The other two follow.

"His room's second on the left," Natasha points toward the hallway leading into the apartment. "Be nice to him," she breathes, and James nods.

He follows through, past the living room, and he stops to take a deep breath before knocking. No answer comes, so he tries again.

"Go away," he hears muffled from the other side.

"It's James," he says. "Can I come in?"

Silence follows for long minutes and James leans against the wall with a sigh. He fishes his phone out of his pocket, opens a text to Clint.

' _Let me see you? Please._ '

It takes a while, but then his phone pings with an ' _ok_ ' and James hurries inside.

The room isn't large, but doesn't feel crowded either. A bed is pushed against the wall on the left, desk on the right, a couple of dressers and a chair. To the far side, there's the closet door hanging open. It's more orderly than Clint's claimed to be. Clint is sitting on the floor, back to the bed, knees drawn up, elbows resting on them. He twists his phone between his fingers, but his hands are shaking, and James' heart twists in his chest. Clint is resolutely not looking at him, eyes fixated on the phone.

So James sits down next to Clint, cross legged. He watches Clint silently for a while, cataloging his features. Messy hair, long fingers, strong arms. He's beautiful on the outside, too.

With a smile, James pokes at his phone. ' _Hugglesquish_ ,' he types and sends.

The movement of Clint's hands stops when his phone vibrates, and James waits for Clint to read. It doesn't pull any other reaction out of Clint, though. Well, that's fine. James is not giving up that easily.

' _I kept wondering how that might work._ ' Send, read, nothing.

' _What is a hugglesquish really?_ ' Same reaction.

' _Squished huggle?_ '

And that pulls a long exhale out of Clint. His lips even twitch upwards.

' _Huggly squish_ ' comes back to James.

' _I've never had one before._ '

There's a pause, but Clint types again. Only this time, his fingers are shaking. ' _Me neither_ '

James draws a deep breath, heart pounding against his ribs, and he leans his head back on the bed, watches the ceiling for a while.

"I was very nervous today," he says, "about finally meeting you. Barely slept last night. You're not the only one who's anxious."

Next to him, Clint shifts and James closes his eyes.

"I kept thinking, what if they don't like me? What if I'm boring? What if I freeze up like an idiot or spill coffee everywhere?"

There's a small huff. Good.

"It was worse, though, I scared my date off. And now I sit here afraid he's not gonna want to see me again."

There's a longer shuffle now, and James opens his eyes. Clint's turned on his knees, leaning sideways into the bed. He looks pained, forehead creased, and one of his hands hangs in the air between them. Ok, he can do this Clint's way. So he closes his eyes again, but shifts toward Clint.

Soon enough, fingertips are touching his cheek, fluttery at first, but the gesture turns into a soft caress to the side of his face. James smiles. It seems to encourage Clint, because he moves even closer, pressed against James' side, and yes.

Arms wrap around James, Clint's cheek resting on his temple. James' heart tries to beat its way out of his chest, and Clint's breath trembles against the shell of his ear.

This is perfect.

"Sorry I ran," Clint rasps after a while.

"Sorry I scared you," James returns, and Clint shakes his head.

"Scared myself," comes back.

"Hey, Clint," James says, and tries to pull away so that he can look at Clint, but the arms around him squeeze tighter. "Ok, ok," he laughs. "Just wanted to let you know I have this incredibly huge crush on you."

That spurs Clint into movement, and he leans back, looks at James wide eyed.

"It's true," James nods. "Since before the soup incident."

Clint grimaces and James shrugs.

"Never tell Steve that one, or we won't hear the end of it," James adds.

Clint rolls his eyes with an inhale. Oh, Steven.

"He called you mommy, didn't he?"

It pulls a laugh out of Clint, and James wraps his own arms around his middle while Clint brings their foreheads together.

"Mom," Clint rasps. His lips have the most entrancing curve as he smiles.

"We'll get back at him," James matches it with his own. "He sleeps like a log, I already bought pink hair dye."

Clint laughs again, louder this time, squeezing his eyes shut. A tear still escapes from between his eyelashes.

"Are you relieved?" James asks. Clint nods. "Happy?" A firmer nod. "Me too," James confesses. "Come on," he says, extending his legs and pulling Clint in his lap, "let go," and he squeezes tighter, pets the back of Clint's head when Clint hides his face against James' shoulder.

~

James accepts the coffee Clint hands him.

"Stop saying sorry," he says when Clint opens his mouth again.

His eyes are still a little wet, cheeks a little red.

"I'm not good at this," Clint waves between them.

With a half shrug, James sits on the sofa. "Luckily for us, Steve and Natasha are Sam seem to be experts in what we need," he smiles.

It's a little wobbly, but Clint matches it. "Did you really get pink dye?" he asks, sliding next to James, and James is thrilled that Clint's not keeping his distance.

"It might be a little more purple than pink."

Ah, fuck. Clint's smile turns into a wide almost-grin, lighting up his entire face. James nearly spills his drink, so he sets the mug on the coffee table.

"We can replace Nat's black sheets with whites. She hates those."

"Might work," James nods, "if we hide her other ones."

"Right! What about Sam?"

James' sudden idea makes him burst into laughter. "We could replace their lube with toothpaste," he manages.

At that, Clint leans into James, mirth shaking his frame. "Mom gave us this weird green goo--" Clint straightens, suddenly serious. "What am I gonna tell mom and dad?"

With a groan, James rubs at his face, pulls his hair back, and ties it up.

"Don't remind me. I don't think I can _ever_ face Pepper again."

Clint's face falls.

"Hey, no." James wants to stop whatever thought is going through Clint's head right now. He takes Clint's hand, places a kiss on his knuckles. "I'm not backing out," he reassures.

A beat, and then Clint nods, mouth curving back into a smile.

"Let's put aside parents and kids for today," James offers.

"Ok," Clint says, but then he licks his lips, bites them, presses them tightly together.

Clint's face is so open, that James can read it quite easily, and his heart rabbits in his chest.

"Do it," he says, and closes his eyes.

Yeah, he gets it. Clint will take a while to get used to James, but James can wait. It's nothing, really, just part of Clint, this timidity. Besides, all of this is new, it's a natural reaction, and James is nervous as well, after all this time. So he can let Clint do his thing without being watched, and Clint doesn't hesitate.

His lips tremble, though, as they press against James.

"Again," James breathes, and gets a feathery touch. "And again," he squeezes Clint's fingers.

Another kiss follows, this one more firm. James smiles, asks for another, and another, until Clint's laughing while pecking at his lips.

~

' _Morning huggles_ ' James reads on his phone.

He drops it back on his nightstand before turning around. He pulls at Clint's arms until they're wrapped around him, pressing his face into the side of Clint's neck.

"Hugglesquish me, babe," he mumbles sleepy.

Clint laughs.

It's sublime.

~End~


End file.
